


The Lay of Peter Rabbit

by aquantumkitten



Category: Beowulf (Poem), The Complete Tales of Peter Rabbit and Friends - Beatrix Potter
Genre: Adventure, Beowulf - Freeform, Epic, Gen, Humor, I really tried to go for the elevated Beowulf style, I wrote this when I was 15, It was for a class assignment, Peter Rabbit - Freeform, Peter Rabbit/Beowulf crossover, Poetic, Satire, Seamus Heaney Beowulf, and I realize now that it is fanfiction, epic peter rabbit, so i'm posting it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquantumkitten/pseuds/aquantumkitten
Summary: In which Peter Rabbit undertakes an epic mission to raid the garden of MacGregor and avenge the death of his father.Crossover between Beatrix Potter's World of Peter Rabbit and Beowulf.
Relationships: Benjamin Bunny & Peter Rabbit, Peter Rabbit & Peter Rabbit's Mother
Kudos: 1





	The Lay of Peter Rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends!
> 
> So I wrote this when I was 15 for my high school honors English class. The assignment was to take a traditional fairy tale and re-tell it in the style of Seamus Heaney's Beowulf, our first text of the year. I absolutely adore both Peter Rabbit and Beowulf, so I had a lot of fun with this one. I used the poetic meter, alliterations, kennigs, complicated genealogies, and everything. 
> 
> While browsing around ao3, I learned that Peter Rabbit is apparently a valid fandom. So I'm posting this crossover for ya'll guys to read. Enjoy!

Under a fir tree there lived a family  
Of rabbits, the children were called Flopsy and Cottontail,  
Mopsy and Peter. They were of modest means,  
Their mother sold lavender and gloves for a living.  
One day she summoned her daughters and son  
To her side: she said, “I am sending you out  
To field, lane, or down, to do as you may,  
While I am gone, getting some bread.  
You must heed this advice: avoid MacGregor's garden  
Your father himself, Paul the Hare, 10  
A mighty garden-raider, confounding MacGregor,  
Through varying seasons a vanquisher of vegetables,  
There met his demise, and for MacGregor's dinner  
he was baked in a pie. Such is the price  
As pays he who will not heed warning.”

The girls were obedient, they picked blackberries  
Out in the field, but Peter sought fame.  
He wished to establish, his glory and honor  
Like his father before him, not fearing MacGregor.

Peter, son of Paul the Hare spoke: 20  
“My race, the Swift-Rabbits, by means of stealth,  
Always uncovered and gathered the garden-spoils,  
And my father Paul, was foremost among them.  
Upon his light paws, leaving nothing to point to him,  
He brought just the biggest and best of the vegetables  
To the high fir-hall which was our home.  
But he was caught, cooked in a pie  
By MacGregor's wife, and today I will  
Set out to fulfill the honor that was father's,  
And enter the high-walled growing-place. 30  
For I call it weak to wallow in grief,  
Racked with despair and recollections unending.  
I'll make my move. May Fate favor me.”

Then Peter ran off, on the route to MacGregor.  
He soon saw the gate, and squeezed underneath.  
Then, feeling great hunger, he hastened to eat  
A few leaves of lettuce, some broad beans and lastly,  
A radish. His stomach, which rumbled before,  
Was crammed with food-plenty; he now wanted parsley  
To ease his sick-feeling. He sauntered across 40  
To the cucumber frame, and turned at its corner  
Peter caught sight of him, planting young cabbages,  
MacGregor, who lorded over the lettuce-land.

MacGregor caught a glimpse of the rabbit in his garden  
And began to chase Peter, brandishing his rake.  
He gave it no name, rabbits knew it as Leaf's-Bane.  
Shouting “Stop, thief!” he stormed through the plant-beds.

Peter took flight; he had not kept track  
Of which way had taken him on his wandering feast.  
So he ran the length of the rambling crop-lines 50  
Not knowing how to get back to the gate.  
He had a fine pair of shoes he was proud of.  
A gift from his mother, they were lost in the garden.  
The first shoe was lost in the leaves of the cabbage row  
The second was dropped in the droves of potatoes.  
But Peter was brave. He was not barred  
From speeding to safety by lack of his shoes.  
The young rabbit fell down onto his feet  
Running on all fours, like his father before him.  
And he scrambled with speed; he would have escaped 60  
Had he not tripped and met with a trap.

A net for gooseberries- he got entangled.  
His blue jacket's buttons were hooked in the mesh-bed.  
Caught in that death-trap, Peter cried.  
Seeing him suffer so, sympathetic sparrows  
Spoke to him, offered him words of comfort.  
Peter gathered his courage, he wriggled free  
At the perfect time. MacGregor pounced  
With a sieve in his hand hardly missing.  
Peter's new coat was left in the net. 70

Trembling, Peter jumped into the tool shed  
Hid in a watering can. It was cold and wet.  
As MacGregor came searching, Peter held back a sneeze  
He could restrain it no longer . It's loud “ker-tyschoo!”  
Made MacGregor turn. Peter jumped, tearing  
Out of there. The man's foot came down  
Where Peter had just been. He jumped through a window.  
MacGregor could no longer pursue young Peter;  
He was done chasing rabbits and returned to his work.

Peter had a hard time wandering through the cabbage-hoard. 80  
It was like a nightmare being lost in the numberless  
Rows of the garden. Peter feared greatly  
MacGregor would come back, but he was courageous.  
He never gave up, but made his way to the gate.  
And that is most proper, to show perseverance.

He could see a cat, crouching by a small pond.  
He had heard from his cousin that cats were untrustworthy.  
So he steered clear. With his cousin Benjamin,  
He would soon reclaim his lost clothes as trophy.

He saw MacGregor's back turned, and took the chance to bolt. 90  
He careened through the cabbages, squeezed back through the closed gate,  
Never losing speed until he saw home.  
His feet gave way beneath him, and he fell on the floor.  
His mother was cooking. She saw him unclothed  
And rebuked him for losing his second new jacket  
In the space of a fortnight; that jacket was fitted  
Onto MacGregor's old garden scarecrow  
The shoes too were hung high on the post.  
Peter was sent to bed sick, with camomile  
Tea, but his sisters sat down to dinner 100  
Feasting on bread, milk and fresh blackberries.

The night-veil was dropped, and darkness fell  
Peter slept restlessly, until day returned.  
Under the dawn-light, Peter lay despondent  
Wrapped in a handkerchief, red cloth held to himself.  
He had achieved honor, in the vegetable-hall  
By daring that journey, but his jacket was left.  
There was no glory in the loss of such goods.  
Benjamin was hopping, jumping high, skipping.  
The cousin of Peter, was coming to greet him. 110  
He had arrived to visit but avoided his aunt.  
He hopped and near tumbled, on top of his cousin.  
He saw Peter's handkerchief. Benjamin pondered:

“Who, cousin Peter, now has your clothing?”  
Peter, remembering his escape, replied:  
“My garments were lost in MacGregor's garden.  
I came for the honor once held by father,  
And ate the vegetables; that was my vengeance  
Against those who made pie of him, the great Paul the Hare.  
MacGregor caught sight of me, by the cucumbers, 120  
He shouted and chased me. I lost my shoes  
Running. My jacket- relinquished in a net.  
He scooped up the jacket put it on a scarecrow.  
Where now it stands guard over that garden.”

Benjamin replied, “We'll recover your jacket  
return the trophy, trick the rabbit-foes.  
I know the method. Listen to me.”

“How?” asked Peter. He was eager for honor.

Benjamin, son of Mr. Bunny, spoke:  
“This morning, I saw them- both the MacGregors  
The rake-brandisher, and the pie-baker, 130  
Going out in a buggy. She wore her best bonnet,  
The lady, and that leads me to believe  
That they have set out to spend the whole day  
Away on the town. Now we may attempt  
Our bid to capture your stolen clothing.”

Mrs. Rabbit was heard, from inside the house  
Calling out, “Cottontail! Fetch me more camomile!  
It is for your brother, to make him feel better.”

Young Peter said, “I'd prefer a walk.”

Hand in hand with Benjamin, hurrying 140  
Down through the woods, they came to the wall.   
Those two saw the scarecrow boldly sporting  
The jacket. It was topped with an old tam-o-shanter.

Now Peter filled with thoughts of his father  
The courage of Paul. He peered down the stone-wall.  
Peter began to make this boast:

“I am here with clear purpose, to capture my coat  
From the clutches of enemies, to enter and take  
What was rightfully mine. Raised as a monument  
Upon the bird's-fright , a base thing to behold. 150  
With prowess proper to a son of Paul,  
I shall steal through the dirt-beds, depose the scarecrow.  
And glean new glory from gathering my garments.  
In winter my jacket will give me good warmth  
Make fairer the frost's-bite. May Fate be kind to me.”

Benjamin's pride in his jacket prevented  
Him soiling his own coat crawling through gates.  
Instead he and Peter slid down a pear tree  
Their fall was eased by fresh-raked dirt.  
The got up, leaving little footprints 160  
Benjamin's clogs bore down in the dirt.

“Here,” said Benjamin, “Give me your handkerchief.  
We will soon fill it with fresh garden-spoils.”

And Peter, the brave one pulled on the scarecrow  
Toppled it, and took his rightful trophy.  
The jacket was rain-shrunk, but otherwise sound.  
Benjamin tried on the tam-o-shanter,  
But left it behind. It was too big.

Peter opened the handkerchief, filled it with onions.  
A gift to his mother, he gathered them up, 170  
By advice of his cousin. It's considered good  
To take the winnings to the one who holds  
The home and hall, and honor them with it.

Then Benjamin feasted on bunches of lettuce.  
But Peter ate not. He kept hearing noises,  
Startling creaks, swishing of wind.  
The sounds distracted him from the lettuce dining.  
Peter always kept his ears pricked.

“Many times before,” Benjamin boasted,  
“My father and I found Sunday dinners 180  
Ripe for the taking in these lettuce rows.”

Old Mr. Benjamin was bold, Peter knew.  
He had seen him when he raided Mr. Smith's  
Garden a fortnight ago, forfeited his first  
Jacket, a green one. He squeezed through the gate  
Uprooted radishes, undermined carrots.  
He saw Benjamin's father but did not speak to him.  
Then with a shriek Old Sally Smith  
Rake in her hand, rushed upon them.  
Peter tried to cram through the gate-posts 190  
His jacket was caught. He struggled and jumped  
Left it behind but escaped with his life.  
He saw old Benjamin swimming across  
A stream. He was strong. But Peter was swifter   
He flew back home on his four feet.

Some mice stopped by, munching cherry stones,  
Lined up and joined the lettuce feast.  
Those mice were fine scops. This was their song:  
“Tabitha cat was having a tea-party. 200  
Her children were fitted with formal attire.  
Fat Tom Kitten could not keep his clothing on.  
The brass button holes burst at the seams.  
As he and his sisters went for a stroll  
The frocks became filthy and fell off.  
Three puddle-ducks were passing that day.  
The kittens begged the ducks to help dress them.  
But the ducks were selfish and stole their belongings.  
They waddled away from the woebegone kittens  
But fate has cruel wonders in store for the wicked.   
When the ducks went swimming, the clothing slipped off them. 210  
They look for it in the lake to this day.  
Their thieving was punished. Now young Peter  
And his cousin Benjamin have done something better.  
They sought to reclaim their rightful property.  
Winning their glory, in MacGregor's garden.”

Benjamin led boldly across the wood-boards.  
It was time now to leave. He was stuffed with lettuce.  
Peter could not hold his stuffed handkerchief.  
He dropped half the onions. The noise made him nervous.  
Suddenly he stopped. Before Peter, sleeping, 220  
Was a fearsome beast, a furry feline.  
Benjamin saw. He hid under a basket  
Both himself and Peter, and the onion-hoard.  
The cat caught a whiff of the cousins and onions.  
She found the smell sweet, so she leaped up and sat  
On the basket, I have heard, for five long hours!  
Through late afternoon. She gave no release.  
Peter and Benjamin were caught in the battle  
With an invincible enemy.  
Their eyes stung with the stench of the onions. 230  
The dark was dreadful, but they were undaunted.  
They saw it as a fight with the fearsome feline  
That they would win wielding their bravery.

After five hours, though they felt near defeat.  
Old Benjamin was strolling. He sought out his son.  
He smoked lavender. The cat looked up.  
Benjamin cared not for that creature.  
He pounced on the basket-guard, grabbed her and pinned her  
Locked her in the garden shed. Then he lifted the basket.  
He seized first his son by his ears. The switch 240  
Was applied to Benjamin's bottom. It's name  
Was Discipline-Giver. Peter got next  
Its sting. His uncle took the handkerchief holding  
The onions and marched the boys away.  
They walked humiliated, their hindquarters hurting.

But MacGregor saw two things he thought curious.  
First, there were footprints filling the garden.  
They seemed to be clog-made but they were so small!  
Second the cat was shut in the shed. 250  
Locked from the outside. How very odd!

Peter's mother did not mind his absence.  
She forgave him because he found his clothes.  
And honored his father. “I hold your deeds high.  
I am glad you were prudent, not baked in pie.  
Now that your clothing has been recovered  
I have proof that Paul would be proud.”  
The onions she hung high above with her herbs.  
On a string in the kitchen was where they were kept.  
In the fir-home of Peter, most eager for fame. 260


End file.
